The corridor was, mercifully, empty. Cassandra never had been shy, and in the right circumstances she gloried in the admiring stares of others. Today though things were different, today she was aiming for decorum and impeccable respectability; a skirt cut off two thirds of way up the thigh would make this difficult.Still, I am not going to cancel the first teaching job interview in a year because I brought the wrong suitcase. Come on Casey, dignity and poise. So thinking Cassandra strode into the hotel lobby, luckily at five in the evening there appeared to be no guests around. For a moment Cassandra thought she might get to her car without meeting anyone.Oh no, behind the desk. Sure enough behind the front desk the elderly owner of the small hotel gazed at her, his eyes registering surprise mixed with lust and appreciation. Cassandra had to fight hard to keep her face still and composed; part of her enjoyed his stares, it was nice to be appreciated after all. On the other hand. I mean, yes please."She ushered us into the kitchen and handed us each a warm chocolate chip cookie, fresh from the oven; still soft and deliciously gooey."So where did you boys meet Paul?" She asked as we munched on the cookies."At the park." I answered. We had been playing a game of football when one of the kids had to go, leaving the sides uneven. Paul had been standing off to the side watching silently, so we invited him to fill in."Well, Paul will be back on Monday, and I'll make sure to tell him that you two boys stopped by to see him." She said."Okay." We replied, "Thanks for the cookies." You're very welcome." She answered, as we headed out the door.Mark and I headed for the treehouse, parking our beloved banana seated bicycles behind the the stone fence in the customary manner of disguising our "secret" place, and spent the afternoon hanging out and just talking; mostly about the magazine we'd seen the day before. We talked a little about Paul, of how he'd managed not to get.
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